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About the blog’s name:
Kicking Back the Pebbles is from David Bowie’s “Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud” from the album David Bowie (aka “Space Oddity”) released in 1969, meant in an-all-cocky, world-eat-my-dust kind of way!
![This year I've lost my mom to cancer and it's been devastating in many more ways than I could ever fathom. It's been traumatizing, to say the least, since I was her sole caregiver up until the very end, but what that entailed is a story for another day. Today is merely about some things I realized I'll never get to experience again. And it hurts...
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You see, loss manifests in manifold ways. Stupid as it may sound, you never expect to miss the things you do. Scrolling through hundreds of clips on my phone while toying with reels—which Instagram finally decided to launch for Greece but has also managed to make them a pain to create!—I came across old footage of mom cooking up a storm on several occasions, and then it hit me:
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I'll never again get to wake up to the smell of her slow braised roast that magically found its way to my bedroom to the other end of our family house on Easter Sundays (she claimed it was a weird air drift bringing all the smells from the kitchen into my room but nowhere else in the home 🤣 ). I'll never get to recreate her pie phyllo even though I have her recipe down to a T—I can't match her skill. And we'll never nail her meatballs either—my brother is especially sad about that. We're actually, physically, literally missing her flavors. Our taste buds don't experience the exact amounts of salt and spices, the specific drips of olive oil, the unique chemistry she created in her rustic pots and pans. Will a food ever taste again like mom's soul food? I doubt it, no matter how hard I may try to recreate it.
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All this to say, somehow it felt fitting to have my first ever reel pay tribute to what I'll miss greatly—my mom's freckled hands tackling business in the kitchen. And it won’t feel like summer again until there's (codfish) pie.
[I plan to post the recipe on the blog, but I can't bring myself in the kitchen quite yet. Cooking's always been about mom—how and what she taught me, what wisdom she instilled, what skill she imparted. Bear with me.]
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